


Nothing lingers (except when it does)

by Kunstpause



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Freeform, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 12:20:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17960399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kunstpause/pseuds/Kunstpause
Summary: A long time ago, there was an elven woman.





	Nothing lingers (except when it does)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elveny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elveny/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Kindling](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17483636) by [Elveny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elveny/pseuds/Elveny). 



> For you bc I love your writing.

A long time ago, there was an elven woman. An elven woman who changed the world.

Unknowingly to many around her. The scope of what she did? She herself was never even fully aware of just how vast it was. She couldn't have been. 

She saved the world from darkness by the mere act of changing someone’s mind. 

How she did that? By loving unconditionally. A simple task some might say, and yet… it may very well be the most complex thing of all time.

There are stories about her in every culture to this day. Stories of grand romance and intense emotions. The best among them tell of something even more important: That her most defining trait was not just whom she loved. It was that she loved life and all it encompasses. That she found beauty where others only saw something broken.

Did she get her happy ending? Some stories say she did. Others claim it was a tragedy. The reality, as it is so often the case, was of course more complex than that. After all, nothing about love or happiness is ever simple, and this story is a story about many things.

 

\-------------------

 

It is a story about grief.

On the walls of the old castle, there are many signs of of the lives lived around them. Some deemed as a flaw. A dent here, a stain there. Others much more than that.

The vast pictures adorning the rounded walls tell a story. More than one if one spends enough time looking at them. No one visits it anymore. The maid carefully draping white sheets over the furniture has looked at them all. If she closes her eyes, she can still see each pigment of colour. She isn't sure why, but the pictures speak to her.

Once, a long time ago, she asked why the room isn't repurposed, used. It felt like such a waste letting such beauty be hidden away. But the woman in charge had only shook her head with a sad look and , oddly, a not sad smile and asked her to take good care of the room but to leave it as it was.

The maid didn't have to ask. Some things she had witnessed, others were just an obvious conclusion. The room had been a place of joy. And now its beauty cut into a wound that might just be too deep to heal.

The years go by. The woman has long left. Sometimes, the now elderly maid still thinks about her. She still takes a moment every time she dusts off the room. A moment, where she sees the colourful walls and remembers a wistful smile paired with sad eyes. She looks at the pictures and thinks that that particular story is the most obvious one.

 

\----------------------

 

It’s a story about change.

“What is this?” the elven girl asks her keeper just as she finished her round through the camp. 

“A statue,” she answers with a raised eyebrow, and the girl rolls her eyes at her cheeky response. She can see that! After all, she is not a small child anymore.  
“Why is there a wolf statue right here, in the middle of nowhere?”

The keeper smiles. “That is actually a great story. And a long one. Should I tell it after dinner tonight, with everyone else?” She winks at her and the girl knows that the question is rhetorical. The keeper will tell the story later, but she would rather hear it right now. 

The keeper can see what the small girl is thinking on her little face and decides to have mercy on her impatience. “It is part of our history. There are a lot of these statues. For a long time, they were built to keep bad things away.”

The girl’s eyes go wide. “Is the story going to be scary?” she asks quietly. She knows that scary stories make it hard to sleep sometimes. But the keeper shakes her head.  
“No, it’s not. See, the wolf was a shapeshifter and he was scary to our people once, but not anymore.” She sees the curiosity sparkling in the young eyes. “But I will tell the full story later. As I said, it is long and I believe the others will enjoy it, too.”

With a sigh, the girl nods as she keeps looking at the statue. “Who is he?” she wonders and the keeper is silent for a little while before she answers, part of her still wondering if she will ever get used to this.  
“He is a friend.”

 

\--------------------------

 

It is a story about perspective.

The bard is putting down her pen, looking at the words she wrote, and the story she tries to tell. It still didn’t fit. The words had come easy but the ending still eludes her. 

“You know you don’t have to finish it today, right?” Her wife’s voice is full of fondness as she sets down a cup of tea in front of her.

Leliana knows, but she doesn't care. She had almost forgotten how much joy this had once brought her. To tell stories. A part of her she had almost lost if it hadn’t been for one particular woman…

“I know, but I want to finish it. For her. For them.”  
Aren only nods in understanding. She always understands. “Why don’t you tell me what you have so far?”

With a deep breath Leliana nods and starts to read out her story. 

“A long time ago, there was an elven woman. She had been through much hardship in her young life, but she never let it gain power over her. No matter how much life threw at her, she always got up again, walking her path. She found a home. Friendship. The love of her life. And for a while? Peace. Only to lose it all again. Through loss and grief, through struggles and worries, she still became a leader, a beacon of hope to those surrounding her. When the world seemed determined to see her fall, she only pushed on stronger. And through it all, she held her head high and her heart open. Where others would have turned bitter, she only loved more instead. She shone brightly in a sea of despair. So bright that she caught the eye of a god who fell in love with her and her unique way of seeing the world. Disarmed by her openness, he gave her his heart and she returned the favour. Their love was intense like the storms in autumn yet still somehow steady and grounded like the trees weathering it. And where the god had been set in his ways and determined in his thoughts for centuries, seeing the world through her eyes opened his own to its beauty. Where he once had callous plans, her outlook on life made him question everything. Where he once despised himself for the sins of his past she gave him back the ability to forgive himself. Their love was eternal, and yet, they were not meant to last…”

She sighs. “That’s it. This is where I am stuck. Maybe I should start over?”

“I like it!” Aren muses. “Though I think she would probably disagree with your description of her. She is too modest to accept any of this.”

The truth in Aren’s words makes Leliana chuckle. “I know. That’s why I am asking your opinion on this and not hers.”

Aren grins. “I am not a writer, but I think you’re on the right path. And you are almost done, too.”

“Yes, but how do I end it?” She sighs as her eyes glide over the words again. “If I focus on the sad parts, it feels like I am not allowing her to find happiness. If I focus on the happy part it feels like I am belittling her loss.”

Across from her, Aren is silent for a moment before she speaks. Carefully. “I see your point, but I don’t see it as a problem? After all, what happened was both. A tragedy and a blessing.”

Leliana doesn't seem convinced. “Yes, sure, but at the same time, that is a really uncommon way to end a bard’s tale.” She is almost startled when Aren laughs at her.

“Endings are final. This is not an end. What happened to them did not end. Their love continues. In both of them. One could argue that it lives on forever in his case. Through what he did for her. And what he did for the world.” Leliana looks at her but doesn't interrupt. It is a rare sight to see her beloved speak of anything with such conviction. “It will live on in her and through her children, it will live on in him through time, and in a way, that love will live on through all of us. Through the ages.”

It is much later, when Leliana is asleep on her desk that Aren carefully drapes a blanket over her. She looks at the papers. The story is finished, much longer than it was before. She smiles as her eyes wander to the end of the page where the last line reads:  
“And thus it began, the Age of Light.”

 

\--------------------------

 

It is a story about remembering.

In the depth of the night, at the far side of the camp, a young boy wakes up from the noises around him. Barely older than ten, he should be fast asleep. His mother smiles at him as he huddles closer to her, next to the fire.  
He is tired, but too restless to sleep. “Tell me a story again,” he asks quietly, his soft blue eyes looking at his mother with a plea she can’t ignore.  
The night is cold, and he can see his breath but the fire and his mother’s voice are warm. 

“What do you want to hear?” she asks. She always asks even though his answer is always the same.  
“Tell me about my great-grandmother again.” Always the same request. His mother never sighs, never tires of telling the story. She tells it again that night, quietly. Speaks of friendship, and duty, and loss. And most of all, a love so vast it moved the universe. She uses simple words, but the meaning is anything but. The boy knows that. It’s why it is his favourite story. When it is finished, he keeps looking into the fire, imagining the tales of the past in the movement of the flames.  
“Still not asleep…” his mother murmurs and he shakes his head. “Can you tell it one more time?”  
With a quiet chuckle her arm around him squeezes him tightly for a moment.  
“A long time ago there was an elven woman…”


End file.
